


An Eye for Detail

by SilverRollu



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual relationship, Fluff, M/M, Pining, What I'm saying is a lot of things will happen eventually, badass prompto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-05 14:29:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12191712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverRollu/pseuds/SilverRollu
Summary: Inspired by thiskinkmeme Prompt:Ignis doesn't think much of Prompto coming along on the trip, as far as he's concerned, Prompto's only in the Crownsguard because he's Noctis's best friend, and can't have been through nearly enough training considering the short amount of time he was given to prepare.Then they get in their first real fight with the empire and as it turns out, Prompto is plenty competent. Still a little green, obviously, but already so capable and exceeding Ignis's expectations exponentially.And that does things for Ignis. A lot of things.In light of a battle, where Ignis finds himself indebted to Prompto for saving his ass, he discovers another problem:He can't stop thinking about him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first part in an ongoing fic alternatively named "the one where Ignis is just really, _really_ gay."
> 
> Enjoy?

Ignis had, to a most unfortunate degree, underestimated the dogs of the empire. The magitek infantry seemed monstrous at first sight, unapproachable in a hoard, but upon closer inspection they weren’t much. Just machines. Machines with a pretty punch, but machines.

But that “pretty punch” is exactly what's ailing him now. They’ve fought MTs in small groups before, but never a hoard as large as the one they currently face. Ignis would have suggested a strategic retreat, had their escape route not been completely swamped with the things, brandishing their weapons and stalking close to them. So they all kept together and fought. And it was going well right until the point where Ignis turned his back on an enemy —and he screams at himself for this later, such an irresponsible thing to do, you _know_ better— and gets a sharp sword to his side as a result.

Ignis swings around when he feels the MTs presence, but it isn’t fast enough to avoid the blade, slashing deep and hot into his right side. He yells out, loudly but cut short by the pain as he stumbles away. The MT goes for another hit, but Ignis is thankfully aware enough to dodge it, only dropping to the ground and rolling a few feet away because damn if moving didn’t hurt, currently.

Among the usual battle chatter, he hears the others screaming his name. Noctis, with his worry barely hidden in his voice, is fighting through a rather large group of MTs that have surrounded him. He looks desperate, as best as Ignis can see from his low vantage point and he keeps looking in Ignis’ direction and he slowly mows down the robots in front of him. Part of Ignis wants to yell at him to keep his eyes forward, lest he end up like Ignis now. underestimated indeed.

Gladio is also too far away, having a much better time of taking down the things but struggling to advance because there’s so many of them. At realizing that he can’t do much from his side of the field, the man relents and turns his head, yells “help Iggy!” as he buries his sword into another hunk of metal.

The MT in front of Ignis has been approaching Ignis with it’s strange gait, its upper body seeming to twist at odd angles. Ignis goes over his options as he watches it, knowing he could roll to dodge one attack but would be wide open for a second one. He could summon his daggers again, but from such a low stance he wouldn’t do much other than hold it back for a moment. Ignis steels himself either way, because he’s definitely not going down without a fight. The MT raises his sword, Ignis grits his teeth, and—

“Got ‘im!”

There’s a flurry of bullets suddenly, rapid fire that thuds into the machine’s metal back, halting its current action. it seems to stutter for a moment before turning around to look at the source. Ignis turns to look as well, because in his pain-addled state it had been the last thing he expected.

Apparently Prompto had been closer to Ignis than he knew, the young man answering Gladio’s request with gusto. Gusto, being the term Ignis would use, because Prompto is certainly approaching the enemy with lots of energy. It’s surprising Ignis, because Prompto hates battles, is always the first one to complain about a monster being to big or scary or gnarly looking. But yet here he is, running in with his gun blazing, staring the beast in the face.

With a grunt, Prompto avoids the swing the MT decided to aim towards him, and he drops to the ground. He uses his running momentum to slide underneath the thing. It’s not a perfect slide, as the MTs legs are far apart in its stance but not far _enough_ , so to compensate Prompto grabs it’s leg as he goes, using it as leverage for him to lift his gun arm and fire several shots into its undercarriage. Ignis doesn’t have to see it up close to know Prompto aimed for the spots between its armor, the small unprotected spots that were in an area people weren't supposed to see. The way the MT stutters to a halt and shakes is all the proof he needs.

Prompto rolls to a stop and jumps to his feet quickly, using the small opening he has to kick the MT in the back, sending it sprawling to the ground.

Ignis doesn’t have time to really register what happens until Prompto is suddenly at his side, pulling him to an unsteady sitting position.

“I got you, Ignis!” Prompto says, producing a potion from one of his pockets. He applies it to Ignis’ wound, releasing a breath when he sees the green glow that means the magic is working.

Ignis takes in a gasping breath as the pain dissipates. He coughs, looking up at Prompto hovering over him worriedly, and… in all honesty, he doesn’t see Prompto at all.

Not the Prompto he _knows_ , the one who complains about how scary the night is, who makes cracks about everything he’d rather do than be in a battle at the moment. Who Noctis sticks closer to instinctively, because he doesn’t want anything to happen to his less experienced friend. Ignis doesn’t see the barely trained, greenhorn that wiggled his way into the Crownsguard by luck. As Prompto grabs his hand and hauls him to his feet, patting his back in a friendly manner, Ignis sees Prompto as he is.

A fighter.

He doesn’t have the battle experience or training the rest of them have, but if that little stunt told Ignis anything, it was that Prompto is plenty prepared.

"Are you okay?” Prompto leans to get a good look at Ignis’ face, frowning.

Ignis clears his throat. "Yes. You… you have my thanks.”

"No prob— wouldn’t be the same without ya, Ignis.”

Ignis nods to Prompto, who gives him a smile and then turns back towards the battlefield, already going at a sprint towards their two companions, the ones swamped with the brunt of the MTs. Ignis finds himself watching Prompto as he follows, watches how Prompto approaches the MTs fearlessly and attacks them head-on. Watches the accuracy to his bullets, the effectiveness to his kicks. Prompto is a fast runner and has pretty good reflexes, so while he doesn’t dodge attacks in a graceful manner he does so quickly and effectively, and a good majority of the time is prepared to counter attack immediately.

At first, Ignis is surprised. Were these things he hadn’t noticed before? Perhaps he’d just assumed Prompto, who Noctis sticks close to just in case, who didn’t spend years in the Crownsguard like he or Gladio, needed to be protected. Assumed he wouldn't be able to hold his own. He starts making notes to himself, rearranging the mental file of things he knew and once understood about the man.

When they finally trash the last of the bothersome monsters and verbally celebrate their victory, Ignis can’t help but let his eyes wander over to Prompto. Prompto stretches his arms and shoulders after the battle, no doubt because of all the recoil from his pistols, and Ignis watches the lean muscles as he moves back and forth. And Ignis imagines Prompto must be like that all over— lean, powerful muscle.

Ignis takes a steadying breath, looks away before Prompto can meet his eyes.

He… may have a problem.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hang out with me at [tumblr!](http://leonmckennedy.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the response already! I'm honestly super flattered <3
> 
> I got a couple of parts all ready for posting! Just kinda... spacing it out a bit? Looking at every other day/two days or so? We'll see. Sorry it's a bit short-- parts will get a bit longer later, eheh.

One week and about a hundred stolen glances later, Ignis realizes that his problem is about ten times worse than he anticipated.

There’s a part of him that wishes they could avoid battle, and not because of the obvious risks. Getting hurt, losing time, wasting resources— it's all a moot point. Avoiding random battles means Ignis can avoid being hopelessly distracted, eyeing the way Prompto moves on the opposite side of the field. Because he only improves with each subsequent fight; he moves quicker, dodges better, kicks harder, shoots swifter. Supplementary lessons from Gladio notwithstanding, Prompto is _good_. He’s been hardly trained and doesn’t have the same finesse that a hardened warrior would have, isn’t as intimately familiar with the battlefield as others are, but he moves with a sort of grace that Ignis is slightly reluctant to say he’s attracted to.

Because that’s what this is.

Attraction.

He’s spent a few nights since their last encounter with the empire considering what it would be like to hold Prompto. All that reckless energy, those lithe movements — working against _him_.

Ignis has been trying very, very hard not to think about it. His job, first and foremost, is to focus on keeping the group of them alive and functioning. That’s all. It’s kind of hard to not think about it when they spend eighty percent of their day fighting and the rest of it sharing a tent that’s rather small for four grown adults.

So he just tries his best.

"Hey Iggy!”

Ignis, currently preparing breakfast for his companions, startles at the sound. Speaking of the devil…

"Morning, Prompto,” Ignis says, hazarding a glance away from his pan to look at the man. Prompto seems to have done his morning routine already; he’s fully dressed, has his hair perfectly styled, and looks much more excited to be awake than he usually is. Prompto’s no grump like a certain prince, but he seems to take time after waking before he’s operating at his best.

Prompto is smiling all wide, though. And against the early morning light Ignis can see every little freckle dusted against the man’s cheeks and shoulders. He averts his eyes immediately, looking back at his stove and hoping he didn’t look strange.

Prompto, however, walks to the other side of Ignis’ little table and leans against it. Certainly makes it much harder not to look at him.

"Remember what Gladio said last night? About how he wanted to “whip” Noct into shape today?“

Ignis remembers that particular exchange. Gladio had been a little peeved about Noctis’ performance in their last battle, resulting in an argument between the two that ended with Noctis throwing his hands in the air and yelling _"Okay! Whatever! We can start tomorrow!”_ Gladio was still in the tent now, undoubtedly trying to rouse the lazy prince from his beauty sleep so they can make good on their early morning session. Ignis can imagine it now, smiling a bit at the image.

“Yes? And what about it?”

"Welllllll I was thinking…” Prompto drags one of his fingers against the tabletop, eyes suddenly darting away. "Since they’re gonna be gone for a little while, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind helping me out today?”

"With….?”

"Okay, so there’s some creatures I wanna take some shots of! I was gonna ask Noct if he wanted to tag along, but since Gladio’s got him I was hoping you’d come with me instead?” Prompto looks up at Ignis, his expression hopeful. “You wouldn’t have to do anything! Just… be my backup?”

Ignis raises an eyebrow, frowning. "Backup?”

“Just in case!”

"What exactly are we taking pictures of?”

Prompto grins then, winking at him. "It’s a surprise! It’s not bad though, I swear! avoiding danger is my middle name, after all.”

To be frank, Ignis cannot recall anything Prompto just said, because the blond’s coy little wink has made it much harder for him to focus. A few moments pass and he realizes that Prompto is nervously fidgeting across from him, patiently awaiting an answer. Ignis should probably be considering all the pros and cons of this little adventure, because if it’s so dangerous that Prompto wouldn’t venture out without help then maybe they should reschedule for a time they could all go together. But if the desire was great enough, Prompto could wander off on his own anyway, and the thought of the man getting hurt while attempting some stupid stunt had Ignis nodding his head in the affirmative.

He’ll go. It’ll be fine.

"Whoo!! Thanks, Ignis.” Prompto smiles a tiny smile and reaches forward to pat Ignis’ arm. "Looking forward to it.”

Ignis tries very hard not to flinch back at the touch. _That_ would be embarrassing. "Indeed.”

A loud groan suddenly cuts through the air, and the both of them turn around in time to witness Noctis stumbling out of the tent, rubbing at his face. Gladio is right behind him, arm thrown heavily around the shorter man’s shoulders. Gladio is smirking while Noctis, eyes barely open, is sporting his usual _"I’m five years old and I’m annoyed_ ” pout. Ignis’ mind helpfully supplies a handful of ideas as to what Gladio could’ve done to annoy Noctis so early. Besides of simply waking him up, of course.

"Hey. I finally woke up sleeping beauty.”

"Ha-ha,” Noctis shrugs Gladio’s arm off with more force than is probably necessary but, in typical fashion, it is not enough force to make Gladio budge more than an inch. The annoyance is clear on his face. "Good morning Ignis and Prompto, my only true friends. Gladio can eat shit.”

Gladio shoves Noctis’ shoulder, causing the man to stumble forward. "What, you sayin’ you wanna skip breakfast and go right to the part where I kick your ass?”

“Ignis, Gladio is picking on me.”

"Enough, you two.” Ignis sighs, turning back to his stove to continue… whatever it was he was doing. He’s just glad he hasn’t burned anything in his distracted state.

“Yeah,” Prompto snickers. "Or he’ll put you both in the time out corner.”

Noctis plops himself heavily into his chair, leaning back and covering his face with his arm. To block out the sun, probably. They all knew if Noctis had his way it would spontaneously set right at that moment so he could promptly go back to sleep. "Whatever. As long as we’re in separate corners.”

"Same corner or bust. Right, Ignis?”

Ignis looks over at Prompto, who is still smiling. The sight is still ridiculously, relentlessly attractive.

He forgoes a response by way of pointedly preparing plates for the finished food. Prompto seems to get the hint and proceeds to help him, gathering Noct and Gladio’s plates and handing them off. Once that’s all done, and they’re all relatively awake and eating, Ignis inhales deeply and takes stock of the situation.

Breakfast? Done. Procuring supplies? To be done when they all return. Going out for the day with Prompto, alone? Well.

He’s going to try his best.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hang out with me at [tumblr!](http://leonmckennedy.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

To Ignis’ complete lack of surprise, the animals Prompto wanted to take photos of weren’t the docile type. He expected as much the further they traveled from camp, away from the marshy grazing fields of the peaceful Garula and onto wider grasslands. Originally Ignis anticipated their trek to take but a few minutes, but they didn’t reach their destination until they were nearly an hour out.

He almost didn’t think they’d find anything until they turned a bush and saw, across the field, a grazing herd of long-necked beasts. Ones that typically grow several feet taller than the average human and have wickedly sharp horns perfect for charging at their enemies.

Upon arrival Prompto immediately goes about finding himself a perch, behind a tree and partially obscured by the underbrush. Ignis follows, refusing to look away under the likely possibility of one the creatures spotting them. They’re doing nothing but simply grazing at the moment, lazily eating the plentiful plant life around them. But Ignis knows enough about their habits to keep his guard up, because a group of startled beasts make for one _hell_ of a stampede.

“A herd of Arba,” Ignis says, barely a whisper, to the excited body beside him. “You have quite a way of choosing your subjects.”

Prompto laughs sheepishly. “Yeah, well.” He finishes fiddling with his camera, placing it down on the grass in front of him. “I wanted to get some nature shots, you know? We hear about them passing through these fields a lot but I never get to take any pictures.”

And that’s definitely because they’re usually passing through the area with the intention of _avoiding_ the giant, roaming beasts.

“Suppose there’s a reason we don’t take many leisure strolls through the woods looking for monsters.”

“I think you just don’t _get_ art.”

The response is such a strange mixture of baffling and amusing that Ignis can’t help but chuckle. Quietly. Because nothing is amusing enough to risk setting the beasts in front of them off. Granted, they are a healthy distance away, where their shapes are hopefully hidden well by the thick Duscaen plant growth, so it’s not too much of an issue.

“Perhaps I should leave the creativity to you.”

Prompto snickers at little at that, letting the sound trail away as he picks his camera up again. He checks over the settings once again, fiddling and fiddling until he’s properly satisfied and lays down, bracing himself against the mossy ground. Ignis drops down a little himself, getting into a more comfortable position but still allowing himself freedom of movement, in case he needs to jump up at a moment’s notice. After all, that’s mainly what he’s here for: to watch out for Prompto in case something goes bad.

Ignis doesn’t particularly think Prompto even needs it; he’s proved himself plenty capable in the past week or so, in the way he improves with every fight. Of course, taking down a giant herd of beasts isn’t a feat to be performed by a single person, but the point of this isn’t to fight. It’s to stay hidden, maybe run like hell when finished. Prompto’s a pretty good sprinter.

Regardless, Ignis settles himself in for the long haul. He keeps his attention on the Arba across from them for several minutes, eyeing them for any sort of sudden movements or signs that they’ve been found. After those few minutes, however, his eyes drift over to Prompto and he’s honestly proud of himself for holding out this long.

The blond is intensely focused, face nearly glued to the viewfinder of his precious camera. He’s not simply taking lots of shots, like Ignis had expected. He’s biding his time, waiting for the creatures to shift into specific positions, or waiting for the right lighting or something else that Ignis doesn’t particularly understand. He does like the creative arts, but he’s not much on photography. Even still, he can admire the effort his friend is putting in.

He can also admire how _good_ Prompto looks, focused like this. One can tell that he’s truly in his element– his profile is at once strict and open, from the furrow of his brow as he squints his eyes, to the little bit of pink tongue that sticks out by way of his intense concentration. His finger hovers over the shutter with a light pressure, only pressing down when he’s certain he has a shot he’s proud of.

In that little mental cabinet of traits Ignis has been compiling about Prompto, he’s already added several things. Competent. Daring. Attractive. And as he watches the man fumble around his camera to change filters with a sort of finesse that’s just unfailingly _him_ Ignis adds another trait.

Cute.

“…..Ignis?”

Ignis blinks and suddenly Prompto is looking at him, frowning in that concerned way of his.

“Yes?”

“You okay? Kinda zoning out there, buddy.”

Zoning out? He can’t recall doing anything of the sort, but that’s the thing. He can’t recall _anything_ of the last few moments, really, outside of Prompto’s studious visage, burned into his memory. His sun-warmed cheeks, soft hair, pretty eyes–

“Ignis…? Ignis!”

Oops. Once again.

“Yes, yes, I heard you the first time. I’m fine, Prompto.”

Prompto levels him with a strange look, something part concern and part… something Ignis can’t gauge. “Um… did you wanna head back? I’m pretty much done now…“

Guilt prickles at the back of Ignis’ mind. How long had he been out it, for Prompto to be done already? He clears his throat. “If you wish.”

Prompto gives a small smile, picking himself up from the ground. “Good. Now let’s get out of here before something h–”

A rustling in the bushes around them interrupts the calm air, causing the two of them to whirl around in alarm. From his peripheral Ignis can see the herd of Arba in the field beyond all snap to attention, long heads pointed at a spot beyond them, into the thick of trees. Next to him Prompto scrambles to his feet, putting away his camera as quickly and quietly as he possibly can. Ignis settles into a crouch, fingers itching at his side.

Out of the trees there’s a loud series of growls, and not seconds later they jump out– a large pack of Voretooths – snarling and rushing for the Arba. They’re not as big as the Arba but with their sharp claws and large jaws they’re able to get the jump on the other animals quite quickly. Within mere moments the relatively peaceful scene they were just privy to becomes a clash of jaws and claws and painful screeching.

Prompto makes a sound crossing between hurt and surprised, so Ignis grabs his shoulder, starting to pull him away from the scene. He whispers carefully, “we best move now, before we’re noticed.”

Barely nodding, the man follows him. They begin to make their way back, quickly but covertly navigating the thick grasslands they traveled through before. A few moments and it even seems like it works, like they’d managed to avoid being swept up into battle. But fate has it’s way of making things as difficult as possible, as Ignis has come to realize.

It’s the only explanation for the three Voretooth, stragglers from their pack, blocking their exit. Either fate has a ridiculous sense of humor, or Ignis has managed to accumulate some terrible karma somewhere down the line.

“No choice then,” Ignis says, summoning his polearm and holding it tightly in his hands. “Looks like we’re in for some impromptu training today as well.”

“Fine by me!” Prompto says in that cute little way of his, falling into step behind Ignis with his pistol already poised.

Yeah.

Fate is quite the conniving fiend.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this means i'm officially done playing catch up with what's already posted on my [tumblr](http://leonmckennedy.tumblr.com): new updates here!! headcanons/wips/etc will still pop up over there though, of course
> 
> ~~also guess who did all their research for the game monsters... BEFORE the bestiary update came about. shakes fist at square~~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go! i just wanna say again THANK YOU, HOLY SHIT i did not expect as much of a response to this silly little thing as i did and i love you all <333 (i keep trying to answer all your comments but i keep getting embarrassed ahgslgsk SORRY)
> 
> ALSO here's my official public apology. just in case

“H-hey... Ignis?”

Ignis hums in recognition, tilting his head in Prompto’s direction. He can see Prompto moving —though just barely in the darkness— in an attempt to create wiggle room for himself. The attempt ends in vain, as there isn’t much that can be done about their situation.

Said situation being crushed up against each other in the tiniest equipment shed Ignis has ever seen. There’s large piles of abandoned hunting equipment around them that won’t budge but for some real effort, and surely they _could_ move something to give themselves space. But they can’t.

Because their goal is to avoid being found, and Ignis is pretty sure throwing things around and making noise would be counterproductive to said goal.

“Could you… ah.” Prompto wiggles, causing his leg to come between Ignis’ and wow isn’t _that_ just the last thing he wants to be happening right now. “Shift to the side a bit?”

He can’t. Ignis realizes that he really, _really_ can’t make any moves. His back is already against a wall, nestled carefully into a corner. “Quite impossible, I’m afraid,” he whispers back.

“Oh.”

Prompto sounds uncomfortable, and Ignis isn’t surprised. He’s trying his best not to completely smush Ignis, holding himself up against something so old and worn from disuse that Ignis couldn’t even begin to guess at what it could be. Old and abandoned indeed.

“Just fall against me, Prompto. It’ll make things much easier on yourself.”

Prompto makes a small sound in his throat. “I don’t wanna crush you _—_ ”

“You won’t, trust me. I can take the extra weight.”

Prompto doesn’t move in the next few moments, probably considering the offer. That passes, however, and soon Prompto is leaning his full weight upon him, solid against his chest. It doesn’t bother him, like he’d said _—_ with the wall at his back he’s most equipped to handle the weight, which doesn’t feel like much to begin with. Ignis has had more than enough weightlifting experience with his training, after all.

Though…. Ignis didn’t prepare himself for the fact that he’d have _Prompto_ lying in his arms, their bodies flush together. It was a smart idea in theory, of course, and he wouldn’t hesitate to offer it to his other friends. But he momentarily forgot about a certain problem.

Prompto’s thigh is now settle comfortably between his legs, a steady weight. Ignis swallows thickly.

“Thanks.”

“Thank me once we make it out of here.”

They fall into silence after that. If he focuses hard enough Ignis can hear the faint growling of the creatures on the prowl, undoubtedly still looking for them.

Two Voretooth between the two of them? No issue, usually. The battle had gone well until the noise attracted the rest of the pack, as well as the ire of the agitated Arba. In all honesty, the two of them had been lucky to get away with only a few minor injuries, fortunate enough to find abandoned shelter with actual doors to duck into. The first few minutes had been hell, listening _—_ because the shed has no windows to see out of, fortunately or unfortunately _—_ to the beast throw their bodies at the walls in an attempt to break through. Soon after, though, the beasts were caught up among themselves, leaving their shed alone in favor of finishing each other off.

A very unfortunate turn of events, but Ignis can only thank the six they aren’t dead. Now it's just a waiting game.

A long, horribly torturous waiting game.

In a space this small, barely large enough for one grown man let alone two, all the little things seem that much clearer. He can feel Prompto’s heartbeat against his own chest as the man lies against him, his pulse beating to a quick pace Ignis assumes is because of the looming monster threat. Ignis can hear Prompto’s breathing, and every exhale ghosts against Ignis’ neck in a way that sends his spine tingling.

Screaming, Ignis reminds himself, is also counterproductive to their goal of not being found by angry beasts.

“….Ignis?” Prompto’s voice is just a whisper against Ignis’ skin. He holds back his shudder. “I’m sorry for getting us into this mess.”

“The thing with ambushes, Prompto, is that they are usually unexpected for the receiving party. Neither of us saw it coming.”

“But I should’ve paid attention more…” Prompto deflates just a tiny bit, looking up at Ignis. Through his eyelashes, leveling Ignis with a look that more than charms him even in the terrible lighting of the shed. “You helped me a lot today, and I probably wouldn’t still be here without you.”

Ignis frowns. “Nonsense. It would have been extremely risky, yes, but you are very persistent when it comes to battle. I’ve little doubt you could’ve escaped just the same by yourself.”

Prompto laughs, quietly. “I’m sure glad you think so.”

“I know so.”

“Ah.” Prompto looks away, and Ignis must be mistaken in the darkness because he thinks he sees the man _blushing_. “T-thanks?”

Prompto’s heart rate seems to speed up and Ignis finds that odd. A reaction to the compliment, perhaps _—_ it isn’t too often that Prompto has probably heard them about his fighting skills. Noct praises him often enough, but Gladio loves to drill the blond on training. And then there’s Ignis himself, who hadn’t taken the time to truly observe it until recently.

Perhaps more frequent compliments were in order.

* * *

 

Thirty minutes pass and the area surrounding their shed has become pretty quiet. Just in time, too, because the strain of leaning in the same position for so long has put quite the annoying crick in Ignis’ neck.

Eventually Prompto, who has been so unnervingly silent for the last few minutes that Ignis feared he’d fallen asleep, speaks. “Is it… safe to go out there now?”

“Perhaps.” Ignis shifts and Prompto goes with him. Though the going isn’t very far; There’s still the matter of the equipment and boxes and blocking them in on all sides. “Let’s move out of here, so we can check at least.”

Prompto nods shakily against Ignis’ chest and braces his hands against the man’s shoulders so he can push himself back. He winds up once again jammed on some rusted piece of metal indistinguishable from everything else in the dark, holding himself as to not fall over on it. It gives Ignis enough space to pull himself out of the corner he’d been jammed into, and soon enough the both of them are carefully and slowly making their way out of the mess. Prompto makes it to the door first. And instead of immediately throwing it open and whooping for joy at being free he pushes himself against it, peeking through the cracks in the wood.

After a moment he lets out a small sigh and opens the door, finally, to a thankfully empty field.

They’re gone. There’s a few fresh carcasses lying in the grass, yes, but no sign of the other, still _living_ beasts that had been stalking them. Prompto throws his head around, checking his surroundings while he takes a few tentative steps forward, and once he’s pleased with what he sees (or doesn’t see) then he proceeds to whoop for joy.

“Thank the gods,” Prompto says, sighing with his entire body. “Let’s uh, never do that again.”

“Yes,” Ignis walks to meet his companion, dusting off his pants as he goes. “Please remind me never go to out on an excursion like this with you again, unless I fancy losing a limb or two.”

Prompto makes a loud noise in his throat at that, making to sound mock offended but with the expression on his face Ignis can’t help but see his guilt. Truly, Ignis doesn’t actually blame him for it. He’d agreed to go along with it, after all, and certainly didn’t prepare himself for such a fight. Not much he should feel guilty about. For once, Ignis regrets his blunt way of joking around.

“Let’s head back to camp now, shall we?” Ignis suggests, walking beside the blond and patting him on the shoulder, hoping the gesture is reassuring enough.

Somehow their outing has taken much longer than expected, and it is well into midday. Gladio and Noctis have undoubtedly returned from their training, and they all still have a list of things to be completed before night falls.

Prompto is all too willing to nod, excited at the idea of getting out of the woods. He takes stock of himself, most notably checking the camera bag tied to his side for any damage, from the beasts or from being crammed in the darkness for nearly an hour.

Ignis takes a moment to check his phone, is unsurprised to see several missing calls and text messages. Their phones were on silent during their excursion, to prevent the unfortunate event of going off and disturbing the creatures they snuck up on. Sure enough, Noctis and Gladio were indeed back at camp, increasingly becoming worried at the lack of response from him and Prompto.

Sighing, Ignis re-dials the last number on the list, Gladio’s, and holds it up to his ear. The man answers in two rings.

_“Where the hell are you?”_

“Hello to you too, Gladio. Glad to see you’re as charming as ever.”

The man grunts on the other end. _“Where are you two?”_ He repeats, sounding just a little more exasperated. _“Neither of you answered your phones.”_

“We had a little… issue, with the wildlife, you could say. We’re heading back your way now.”

The sound of shuffling reaches Ignis’ ears, and after a moment, the muffled sound of Noctis’ voice can be heard. Gladio says something he can’t quite make out, probably telling Noctis that the two of them weren’t dead and rotting somewhere in Duscae.

_“Okay. Wouldn’t kill you guys to send a text or something, damn.”_

“Warms my heart to know you care _—_ ”

Next to him, Prompto has stopped walking. Before he can turn his head to look at his companion a shot is fired, the noise startlingly loud and clear in the relative silence.

 

Ignis drops his phone.

 

_“The hell was that, Iggy? …Iggy? Ignis! Shit—”_

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prompto is kneeling.

In front of Ignis is a Voretooth, still warm but undeniably dead, and in front of it is Prompto, still holding the gun that felled it.

Ignis feels his heart speed up when the reality of the situation dawns on him. In just seconds, another beast managed to sneak up on them. Ignis, distracted, hadn’t noticed it stalking them. But Prompto did. Prompto, who turned on his heel quickly and deftly disposed of it with a single clean shot, noticed it.

Ignis only has half a mind to summon his daggers, going into a stance more inspired by muscle memory than conscious decision.

“Wait.”

Prompto, still kneeling, holds his gun with steady with both hands, not taking his eyes off a spot in the distance. “I see it. I see _—_ ”

Sure enough, emerging from the bushes in the far distance is another one of the beasts, quickly stalking it’s way forward. Ignis hears Prompto take in a steady breath. On the exhale he pulls the trigger, once. Twice.

And Ignis watches with rapt attention how the Voretooth recoils from the impact, falling to the ground within seconds. It doesn’t move.

A hush falls over them. For several moments, all that can be heard is the wind blowing through the leaves, the humming sounds of insects in the trees. Nothing else emerges from the bushes. There are no growls, no scuttering of clawed feet on dirt and rocks. Ignis ventures a look down at Prompto, who hasn’t given up his stance but has noticeably relaxed, taking stock of his surroundings and breathing very silently.

A few more moments and everything snaps. Somewhere, a bird cries, the trees shaking when it takes off. Prompto heaves a sigh and collapses fully onto both his knees, letting his gun fall away in a shock of blue light. There’s a single drop of sweat on his forehead that he wipes away quickly. His hand lingers on his face as he laughs.

“Oh gods. Oh my _god_ ,” Prompto manages on a soft chuckle, voice just this side of calm. “That was so fuckin’ close.”

He looks up at Ignis, a wobbly smile on his face, and Ignis doesn’t have any words.

Again. Prompto did it again. Saved his behind, revealed yet another skill of his. Did something incredibly amazing and looks absolutely stunning while doing it. All of it. He did it _again_.

Prompto starts to pick himself up again. It takes him a while, because he’s shaking. Ignis finds it in him to reach over, grabbing his hand and pulling him up the rest of the way. Prompto is still shaking when he lands on his feet, braces his other arm against Ignis to stop himself from falling over.

“Ah _—_ thanks, Iggy.”

“I should be thanking _you_ , Prompto. That was… incredible.”

Prompto gives another short chuckle, sounding breathless, surprised, and completely amazing. He looks up at Ignis through his eyelashes again, thoroughly unaware of the way it makes Ignis’ mind run in circles. “Yeah I _—_ that was, ah,” more laughter. “I-I don’t know what that was but it was kinda… cool, wasn’t it?”

Prompto sounds absolutely astounded by his own ability, got this slightly shaky smile on his face as he recollects his actions. The sight is nice, but Ignis can't help the sudden urge to shake the man. _Don't be surprised_ , his brain supplies. _You're so much more capable than you seem to give yourself credit for._

Ignis still hasn’t let go of Prompto. After a few moments the blond's smile starts to fade and he tilts his head, a question poised on his lips.

Whatever the question was doesn’t come to fruition as Ignis claims those lips with his own.

It is, frankly, _far_ better than Ignis imagined. Softer, for sure. There’s a tiny gasp from someone, another small indistinguishable sound. It lasts the briefest of seconds before Ignis finally gets his wits about him and realizes that he’s _kissing Prompto_ and gods if this isn’t something that he’s probably _not_ _supposed to be doing_ _right now_. 

Ignis pulls away fully, letting Prompto’s wrist go and taking a step back. He’s held in place, however, by fingers tightly woven into his sleeve. Prompto blinks at him with wide eyes, lips still slightly parted and cheeks absolutely _burning_ with one of the most charming blushes Ignis has ever seen. It highlights his freckles a rosy red, goes from his cheeks to his ears to parts of his neck. It’s flat out _gorgeous_.

Prompto opens his mouth but no sound comes out. He tries again and manages “I-Ignis, you _—_ ” before the loud, generic ringtone of Ignis’ phone cuts through the air.

He forgot he turned the sound back on.

Reluctantly, he pulls away. Prompto lets him. More than lets him, really, because the noise nearly scared the blond right out of his skin, his fingers immediately releasing Ignis as he flinched away. Ignis tries not to dwell on it, instead searching the grass for his phone. The device lies only a few feet away, vibrating into the dirt. Ignis picks it up and is graced with Gladio’s voice yet again, sounding much more worried and very frustrated.

 _“Iggy, what the_ fuck _just happened? We heard gunshots.”_

With a steadying breath, Ignis grips his phone tightly. “We may need you to pick us up.”

“ _On our way.”_

He thinks Gladio is saying something else on the other end, probably asking for their location. It’s difficult for Ignis to pick up over the sound his own blood rushing in his ears, his own breath that’s only a tiny bit panicked and certainly not even. He tells Gladio things he cannot recall. And the call ends, just like that, with Gladio’s and Noctis’ muffled voices reassuring him on the other end. The entire time Ignis is looking at Prompto.

Prompto himself is looking at a plot of grass, picking at the fingers on one of his hands. His face is still very red and he’s very pointedly _not_ looking in Ignis’ direction. That much is apparent when Ignis begins to walk over to him, telling him about their ride. As if Prompto hadn’t been listening to the conversation the entire time.

“Let’s… walk back to the road. Noct is driving, and I’m sure he’s liable to miss us if we aren’t in plain sight.”

Prompto startles, meeting his eyes for a brief second before immediately looking away. “Y-yeah… okay.”

Ignis takes in another deep breath, mentally punching himself.

 

He's really done it now, hasn't he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the battle cop-out hahaha;;; i just really wanted to write the "pair stuck in an enclosed place together" trope at least once in my life and i couldn't not start it that way! hope prom's stunt makes up for it ;o


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been a while since i've updated! i really meant to have this out sooner but life has been awful lately :/
> 
> thanks, however, to all of you guys again for the comments!! holy shit. i am never not amazed by you all, thank you so much for being here??? im pretty sure i dont know what i'm even doing 90% of the time so i'm glad to know it's at least a little likable? 
> 
> <333333

Ignis knew of Prompto before Noctis had even brought him home, had given his awkward introduction. The crownsguard is strict about the Crown, a given by their namesake. And that strictness involved information. Knowledge. There were files kept on all the people the Prince interacted with on a daily basis; his classmates, teachers, tutors. The owner of the little shop Noctis picked up a part time job at, once upon a time.

So when Noctis befriended a classmate, and had no outward intentions to stop fraternizing with him, the guard found it interesting. Thus, _Ignis_ found it interesting.

Among all the information in the surprisingly small packet – mostly academic records, parental information, place of work, criminal background, general info that gets tiresome to leaf through each time – the one thing Ignis found his mind getting stuck on was the photograph attached. It was a candid photo, taken on some sort of windy fall day. His hair is blown every which way, and his freckles, while not as pronounced, were still more than visible in the autumn sunlight.

Admittedly, Ignis may have been stuck on the visage of this stranger because it was his job, and he’d need to know the face of the person he would be dealing with. But he thinks that, somehow, his thought process had gotten stalled at the expression on his face. The boy, Prompto, had such a painfully awkward look on his face for being caught in the middle of a conversation with his parents. Obviously, teenagers aren’t exactly known for having the best of relationships with their parents, but something about Prompto’s face hit him as strange.

It was the same look he’d given Ignis, a week later, when Noctis invited him inside, the kid sounding as nervous and scared as he looked. It’s a look he still gives now, when he jokes around about himself, when he sees a monster he doesn’t want to deal with, or picks up a job he’s dreading to complete.

And it was the same look Prompto had given him just now. Ignis had only a brief view of his face before he turned away, and so far hasn’t gotten any other eye contact from him since, but the expression itself made an lasting impression — yet Ignis couldn’t figure out what it _meant_. Was he confused? Hurt? Annoyed?

Was he going to reject him?

That’s probably the most confusing part about the situation. Most of the walk up to their discussed rendezvous point is spent in awkward silence, with Prompto pointedly looking away from Ignis and Ignis racking his brain for any sort of response that wouldn't sound absolutely awful. He takes stock of this situation, considers the different possibilities and the next actions he should take.

Talking. They should talk about it. They _definitely_ need to talk about this.

Waiting on the side of the road, not a single other person in sight, Ignis turns to the blond. “Prompto.”

Prompto physically twitches at his voice, looks over at him and then quickly looks away again. He bites his bottom lip. “Y-yeah?”

“I’m… I believe I owe you an explanation.”

“....okay.” Prompto takes in a deep breath. Ignis watches him closely, how he kicks at the gravel at his feet. “It’s okay.”

“It’s okay?” Ignis asks slowly, slightly apprehensive, slightly hopeful.

“Yeah. I mean, I get it. There’s like, worse things you can do when you’re high off adrenaline, or whatever.” He kicks at a rather large pebble, and it skids into the empty street. The sound it makes when it bounces, dull thuds against the pavement, is strangely powerful.

Ignis, stunned momentarily, finds it in him to shake his head. “No, Prompto, that’s not... I’m—”

The Regalia picks that moment to pull up.

Noctis stops right in front of them, the wheels rolling over the gravel and the pebble from before. He waves at them, making a gesture for them to hop in. Prompto moves easily, and maybe a bit too quickly, shambling into the passenger seat with no preamble. Ignis, however, finds himself pausing.

Adrenaline? That’s what he thought it was — something as simple as that? Ignis isn’t sure if that’s better or worse than the alternative. The alternative being… something he’d rather not consider, honestly.

“Uh,” Noctis says, “you okay, Prom?”

Prompto has collapsed forward in the car, arms folded and head buried within them. “Just… ready for the power nap of the century,” Prompto says, muffled.

“Sorry, nap time’s not on the list today, kid.” Gladio shifts in the backseat, leaning over to pat the back of his seat. “Things to do, people to see.”

“But we almost got eaten, today. Don’t you even care?”

“If you’d managed to get eaten while trying to take _pictures_ , then maybe it’s just natural selection running it’s course.”

Prompto makes some sort of noise, face still muffled in his arms. He sounds more tired than outwardly upset, probably since Gladio’s tease had no real heat to it.

In fact, the longer Ignis hovers outside of the Regalia, the more Gladio’s carefully calm face melts into concern. He switches his attention to Ignis, raising an eyebrow at him. “You gettin’ in or what?”

Right. Gladio and Noctis watch him as he stalls outside of the car, with Noctis shifting in his seat as if he’s going to get out.

“Did you want to drive instead?”

From the corner of his eye, he can see Prompto jump a tiny bit at the suggestion.

“It’s fine,” Ignis says, finally. “Unless today’s the day you plan on crashing.” Ignis opens the door, climbing in on Gladio’s side and falling into an undignified slump against the seats.

“I can drive fine!” Noctis says, looking back at him while he pulls off. Ignis only has to mutter _‘eyes on the road’_  for Noctis to roll them and turn his attention back to the wheel.

Ignis takes his glasses off for a moment, rubbing at his temples. Now that he’s back in the relative safety of the Regalia, the exhaustion is starting to catch up with him. He knows he’s covered in scrapes and cuts, probably a few bruises hiding under his clothes. Prompto would be about the same, most likely, feeling the aches and pains after the last of that godsforsaken _adrenaline_ has worn off.

And he thinks… it could be _worse_ . If not for their teamwork in battle, or Prompto’s impeccable aim, they’d be in a hell of a lot more pain than they currently are. Ignis certainly would be, a fact he knows _very_ well, and he is beyond grateful for it.

However, maybe he needed to find a better way to show his appreciation.

At some point he feels Gladio nudge his side with his elbow, asking in a whisper if he’s really okay. He finds there isn’t really a proper way to explain the sudden anxiety churning in his stomach without making a fool of himself so he stays quiet. Throughout the whole ride, along with Prompto. Quiet.

* * *

 

They arrive in Lestallum later than originally anticipated, unsurprising given their earlier setback. The plan was to pick up money from their most recent hunt, stock up on some supplies, and then head back out. There’s so much to do as it is, with finding the Royal Tombs being a task daunting for the lot of them, so constant moving is what they’d all decided on as a group. But with it already being the middle of the day, by the time they would finish refueling and shopping in the city it would already be getting dark. Staying would be the safer option, and better safe than sorry.

They all decide on this while Noctis is finding a parking space. Ignis mentions it, gets a round of assenting noises from everyone in the car; a distracted grunt from Noctis, a gruff “yeah” from Gladio at his side, and a small hum from Prompto, so soft one could miss it for the strong breeze blowing.

Noctis parks, cuts the engine. “Everybody out.”

Ignis steps out of the car, rolling his shoulders. Gods, his neck was stiff. “Time to stock up on curatives.”

“Well,” he hears Gladio say, “While you guys do that….”

Ignis looks up in time to see Gladio already heading out if the parking lot and making a beeline right for the cup noodle truck parked on at the square’s entrance. Had Ignis not been absolutely exhausted he may have offered the man something other than a heavy sigh. As is, he doesn’t particularly care if the man wants to stuff himself with processed junk food.

“I’m gonna go talk to talk to Vyv.” Prompto says. He’s staring resolutely in the direction of the outlook. His camera bag is held tightly between his fingers, scratching idly at the rough material. “See if he’s got any new jobs for me.”

The sight of Prompto fills Ignis would a distinct sense of dread. He’s got to say something. So far, the fact that Prompto wasn’t angry at him for breaking a boundary is good, but it doesn’t settle right with him.  He’s yet to explain himself fully to Prompto, and the man deserves to know why.

He deserves to know, even as the idea fills him with apprehension. Because, gods, it was such an _impulsive_ thing for him to have done. At the time all he could think about was the way Prompto looked, fingers holding his gun firmly, face surprisingly calm as he took measured, accurate shots. The bewildered, adorable smile on his face when the nature of his actions hit him. Ignis had been thinking _“incredible. He’s incredible.”_ And his body had reacted accordingly.

Before Ignis can think of a single thing to say, Prompto turns to Noctis, already talking.

“Noct, you wanna come with?”

Noctis’ eyes briefly dart over to Ignis before he focuses on his best friend fully, nodding. “Sure. You gonna be okay by yourself, Specs?”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll manage.”

Noctis gives him another look, eyebrows furrowed. Ignis isn’t sure what kind of expression he’s giving himself, but apparently it is enough for his charge to pick up on. Prompto starts to head for the stairway leading to Vyv’s typical hangout spot, beckoning Noctis to follow him.

Ignis watches them leave with a heavy sigh, silently lamenting his missed opportunity. He supposes it’s time to do some shopping, at least.

 

 

He does his best to ignore the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach, instead heads into the heart of the city. Before, he made a list of the supplies they’d need. Mostly medical supplies, food, basic necessities. A good deal of which could easily be found in a place as big as Lestallum. As he passes through the streets, he takes in the familiar scents of the city; in Lestallum there were always numerous food stands and trucks at any given time, so the air always carried a multitude of wonderful smells. Visiting the city always meant a chance to survey the many different culinary talents gathered there. And Ignis does lean over at particular stalls, eyeing the foods sizzling on grills and hot plates, but he can’t manage to get as immersed as usual.

He decides to make a beeline for the shops instead. If he’s going to spend the entire time in the city ruminating over his mistakes, he might as well be productive while slowly dying on the inside.

Ignis comes across a certain stall and peeks over at the wares. Curatives are what they desperately need; their supply of potions is slowly dwindling away, and they are completely out of antidotes and the like. The shopkeeper greets him with a solid wave, patiently watches as Ignis tries to remember the specifics he’s suppose to purchase.

Didn’t he have a list? How many of each item, the expected cost, the materials they were most likely going to need for the rest of their trip? For some odd reason none of the things are coming to mind, and it takes an embarrassingly long time before Ignis remembers he has a notebook specifically for this kind of thing, and he reaches for its spot hidden on the inside of his jacket.

He pulls it out, fumbles a bit. Starts flipping through the pages.

“Iggy?”

Which page was it on again? There are a few scribblings about a new recipe he was concocting, a little note about Noct’s diet…

“Iggy.”

On the corner of a page is a series of scribbles, very obviously covering up something larger that had been put down underneath it. His brain scrambles to recall what he possibly could have written _that_ big and in a corner, no less, until it hits him–

“Ignis!”

There are hands to accompany the voice– two big palms slap down on his shoulders, pulling him roughly out of his thoughts. Ignis doesn’t have time to flinch; he’s spun around completely, blinks his eyes frantically as he suddenly comes face to face with Gladio. The man has a heavy frown on his face.

“Gladio?”

“About time you heard me,” Gladio says, with the frustration of a person who’s been vying for another’s attention for a while. Unsuccessfully. How long has he been standing there? “It’s not like you to zone out. What’s up?”

Was he zoned out again? Seems to be a new and rather inconvenient habit. Ignis shakes his head, returning his friend’s frown with one of his own. “I… well, I suppose you’re right.”

“Somethin’ wrong?”

Yes, yes there is, he thinks, but Ignis can’t bring himself to say anything for the embarrassment it’d cause. So he simply shakes his head.

“Just a bit… out of sorts. Nothing to concern yourself with.”

Gladio doesn’t look at all convinced by his answer. He does let go of Ignis, however, crosses his arms and stares forward. It takes Ignis a moment before he realizes that his notebook is still open in his hands, and in a sudden fit of self-consciousness he snaps it closed. The damage is done, however.

“Is that… you _draw_? Since when?”

“Since never,” Ignis says, hastily placing the object back into his pocket and straightening his posture. “It’s some mindless scribble from the other day. Please don’t consider it too hard.”

Before Gladio can make another comment Ignis finally addresses the shopkeep. This poor person has had to deal with him standing here for who knows how long, staring at a box of materials. Ignis will spare Gladio’s brand of humor. He also doesn’t particularly feel like getting picked on.

He buys a handful of potions from the shop, along with a few elixirs. The bag is a steady weight against him as he goes, Gladio on his heels, back through the marketplace. With the bare necessities out of the way, he can pick up a few food items, maybe some new spices. The idea is a welcome distraction from his personal failings, especially with Gladio accompanying him. He gives a few comments here or there, gives Ignis second opinions on some of the food expenses. Soon enough an hour or so has passed, and Ignis realizes, with faint alarm, that it’s time for the four of them to reconvene at the Leville.

As the two of them traverse the thin winding walkways of the city, nearing the hotel, Ignis’ gait becomes slower. He doesn’t realize what he’s doing until Gladio, who’d been walking at his side before, turns around to face him. The man’s hands are at his hips, and he looks so incredibly huge in this moment that had Ignis been a stranger he may have been intimidated.

As it is, Ignis only blinks and faces him with a frown. “Yes?”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“What do you mean?”

“You zoning out? You never let your guard down like that.” Gladio takes a moment to size up his friend. It makes Ignis feel terribly open, suddenly. Vulnerable. “If you’re sick and not telling me about it–”

“I’m tired, Gladio.” Ignis starts to walk again, Gladio stepping aside to let him through. “I’ve been ambushed by beasts and crammed into small spaces for the vast majority of my day. This might be a bit selfish of me but let’s just… turn in early.”

There’s silence. Gladio falls into step next to him, slowing his gait to match Ignis’ slower steps. At length, the man’s only response to Ignis’ small outburst is a grunt, a grumbled “if you say so,” floating between the two of them as they approach the Leville.

Inside the lobby are Noctis and Prompto. Prompto is leaning against the counter, fiddling with his camera, as Noctis talks with the receptionist.

“Yo,” Gladio says by way of greeting, walking right up to the two.

Prompto looks up, catches Ignis’ eyes. As expected, however, he quickly looks away, his fingers moving more insistently at the buttons of his camera.

Noctis is looking directly at him, however. “I got us some rooms. Two.”

Ignis raises an eyebrow. They weren’t hurting for cash, as the hunts they constantly took on gave them a decent amount to survive on this trip, but separate rooms were more often than not a luxury on the road. Admittedly, Ignis has gotten used to sharing beds, as it’s no different that being crushed against each other under a thin tent.

But his eyes wander over to where Prompto has started some kind of conversation with Gladio, and he nods in agreement. He’s used to sharing, but separate rooms will definitely suffice tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check me out @ [tumblr](http://leonmckenndy.tumblr.com)! i write even more shit over there, if you can believe


End file.
